Checking Out

With the last of Stormcaller‘s feedback in, I’m almost finished with the revisions to the manuscript. This isn’t my favorite part of the writing process. I love the creating, the brainstorming, the “What the heck do I do now?” Polishing words isn’t fun, and mostly serves to remind me about what a pitiful command I have of English.

And I are educated. How pathetic!

Still, I’m glad the end is near. Now I can start waiting, waiting, and waiting. When I get tired of that, I’ll wait some more.

Just kidding. I can’t stop writing. If I could, I’d still work in Information Technology. Nope, my brain is like Arrakis—the words must flow. This week’s words will finish the work, but next week’s?

New work. Better work. I learn new things at work each week, find new flaws in my writing, discover new strengths. Each novel I write is better than the last (in Stormcaller‘s case, dramtically so).

With an eye to the future, I sit here and run my final checks on a manuscript. Part of me dares to hope and wonder what might happen with it. I hope I can sell this novel. That could potentially pay for all of the refits to White Raven!

That’s later. For now, I revise and gnash my teeth.

Forced Perspective

Today’s Wisdom: Don’t pick up and recap the bottle of ghost pepper flakes, NOT wash your hands, and then rub your eyes.

You’re welcome. Also, ow. Also also, ghost pepper flakes go GREAT with oatmeal.

I’m nearly finished with revisions to Stormcaller. It never ceases to amaze me what other people catch during their readings. Some readers caught the same typos and goof ups (for the record, I blame the Week of the Shitty Keyboards), but what really interests me is the questions people come up with. Sometimes they force me to question my assumptions, while others force me to clarify weakly-worded shite.

One question came up about a plot device I added late in the writing. The device serves a specific function, and does its job, but this reader asked something that scared the verbiage out of me. Forced me to reconsider the mechanism for the plot device. I’m not necessarily taking it out, but I definitely need to restructure its constraints.

When the final feedback comes in, and I put the finishing touches on the manuscript, I’ll be damned proud of the story I’ve written–and grateful for the assistance of my beta readers. It won’t be finished this weekend, but it might be done around May 5th or 6th.

Fingers crossed.

Wordtastic (Re)finery

Rewrites continue on Stormcaller. I’ve gotten great feedback from several people (Thank you!) thus far. As a writer, I can already see where I’ve improved over previous works. As fond as I am of Antigone’s Fall, it’s apparent that Stormcaller is a stronger novel. While I’m not willing to totally attribute that to Erin Evans’s “Outline! Outline! Outline!” dictate, I must admit that knowing vaguely where the story was supposed to go made writing it easier.

Revisions, on the other hand, never seem easy.

The more I learn about the art and science of writing, the more I loathe myself during the revision process. Crutch words, passive voice, adverbs, and the like leap out at me and bludgeon me senseless. Typos don’t bother me because that’s just fast fingers talking, but weak-ass words like had, felt, and was shame me into wanting a Drain-o colada or three.

While revisions aren’t a fun part of the writing process, they’re where your real vision of the work comes to life. First drafts are just shite because you’re simply getting the words and ideas down on paper/dataspace. In your mind, however, even the first draft is epic because it’s the first time your idea came to life. You’ve got to shove those fuzzy feelings aside (to make room for gloom and self-hatred) and get down to the real work.

How to Revise a Novel

1. Take a break. Nothing clears your eyes like time and distance. If possible, get alpha readers to read a (cleaned up) first draft to look for stuff you can’t see anyway.

1a. Engage your brain elsewhere. Play a video game, draw something, fix something.

2. During the first re-read, just make notes. Don’t fix anything. Also, don’t keep alcohol nearby. You can’t afford to drink that much yet.

2a. Keep alcohol nearby anyway.

3. Hit the crutch words first. Unnecessary use of force on crutch words is authorized.

4. Hit the passive voice. Several times. Frankly, run through The 10% Solution, by Ken Rand. Then wipe your tears away and keep working.

5. If you’re fortunate enough to get feedback from people, consider their comments and questions. Adjudicate them. Maybe you’ll incorporate them, maybe not, but at the very least it’ll help identify areas in need of clarification (I never knew Mr. Darcy was the original pilot of the Black Lion! –”Pride and Prejudice and Voltron” (Seriously, it would rock!))

6. Resolve your hints, questions, and mysteries. If you’re not going to resolve them, tease them up, but make clear that you’re exploring those at a later date.

7. Check your logics. Of course it makes sense to you–you’re the bloody author. Did you explain everything to your reader?

8. Punch up your beginning. Make it tight. Tighter. Cinch it up so it can’t breathe…and neither can the editor reading that first page.

9. Know when to say when. Perhaps you’ve done all you can at this time. Perhaps it’s ready to go. Don’t keep polishing it forever. If you can’t think of anything else, start querying. If you think it’s not ready, set it aside, but come back to it later. Someone told me once (the Internet) that the primary hindrance to publication is fear of submission.

 

I’d add that you should keep a running list of anyone who gives you help, offers their time, or feedback. I believe acknowledgements are important and a good writer isn’t afraid to admit they had a lot of help.

Work on Stormcaller‘s been my second job for the past few months. I’m hoping to finish these revisions in May…and start submitting it. I’m not going to lie, the idea terrifies me. Now I have to sell the book, a completely different process, but it’s the next step in my professional development.

I can’t wait.

Moving Forward

Been a busy couple of months. Haven’t been too active here. Sorry about that.

The primary culprits are writing and writing. As we gear up to launch TERA, the writing demands and deadlines increase. It’s fun, exciting, and possibly immuno-suppressing. The happy part is we’re just over a month away from launch, so that’s exciting. We’ve also introduced three new ebooks, including one of mine! This is my first shot at writing tie-in fiction that isn’t vignette length. I’m very proud of the work the company did to get these short stories out. I might be biased as hell, but I think they’re professional grade. I also recommend checking out the ones by Jessie and Bridget, two super-talented writers I’m lucky to work with.

On a more personal note, I finished the revisions to Stormcaller. I received some useful feedback on the relationship stuff and am pleased with the results. I’ve sent out the revised MS to some beta readers and can’t wait to get more feedback. I’m also working up the supporting documents and such I’ll need to pitch Stormcaller to a publisher. Another growth opportunity and chance to experience a different side to the publishing industry.

I won’t be around most of next week as I’ll be in Boston for PAX East. That said, if you’re reading for me, I’m very grateful for the gift of your time and mind. Hard to believe we’re through a third of 2012. I need more time!

Right Like Hell

It’s the race to the finish, that final push that I generally loathe. Since I already know how my stories end, there’s not as much compulsion to finish them. Starting things is more my thing. Several gracious beta readers looked at a few key chapters and sent in their feedback, but look at me–all growed up and mature–I didn’t even start revisions yet.

As National We Hate Singletons Day is over, there’s nothing standing between me and the epilogue.

Except, you know, actually writing.

For myself, this is where actual discipline is necessary. Just get the words out, just finish it. Does it make sense? Don’t care. Does it resonate? Care even less. Does it tug at heartstrings? Can’t hear you, writing.

The magic comes in subsequent drafts. This is just the first draft. It’s supposed to look like a flock of seagulls shit dictionary pages onto my laptop screen.

Must…keep…writing.

Enriched and Refined

My mother assumes that I spend most of my day, sitting upright in my chair, fingers poised over the home row, eyelids fluttering as I line up the perfect words for a killer sentence. It’s her view of what writers do and I largely blame the clip at the end of many Stephen J. Cannell shows where he’s intently typing and rips the final page out with a flourish. The reality is much different. For one thing, I slouch like a planking squid…

For another, no writer can wait for the perfect words, or rather, they can’t afford to wait. I wrote my first novel in three months. It was horrid, unpublishable, and an entertainment lawyer’s dream come true, but while it didn’t land me a date with the girl I wrote it for, it did earn some professional criticism and critiquing from Jack Cady, who dragged me down into his basement office at PLU and taught me more in an hour than I learned in all of my English courses. That book, and that meeting, set me on the course I am today.

I thought my first draft of that novel was gold. I realize now, of course, that it was really just a shitty mustard brown, but because I was able to learn from it, it served its purpose. My next novel, while equally unpublishable at 270,000 words, was a much better example of my writing. A forensic colleague of mine once paid me the compliment of calling it “professional.”

I’ve been working on a short story project for six weeks. To write 9,000 words in six weeks seems a little crazy considering I cranked out 50,000 words in 10 days for NaNoWriMo, but short fiction is the hardest task I’ve tackled as a writer. I finished the first draft on Friday—a week ahead of my deadline. Is it perfect? Not at all. I know for a fact that it’s lacking in a few areas—but that knowledge is intuitive. I can’t look at it and say “Weak here, no tension there” and so forth. That’s okay. The first draft is done.

It’s all right that the first draft is crap. The difference between amateur writing and professional writing isn’t brilliance, intellect, or imagination—it’s refinement. This first draft won’t do anything other than convey my basic ideas, get the snappy dialogue out of my head, and provide a framework to build upon. I’m going to ask my editor to give it a quick once-over and tell me what’s missing—or what’s too much. Fresh eyes often see things I can’t. Time apart can do the same thing—I often return to a manuscript and start laughing/weeping when I read a draft. That’s all right. You make the improvements and move on.

Michaelangelo didn’t just knock out a humanoid shape and call it David. It took time, refinement, a deft touch on the most minor of flaws—and the result is a masterpiece. Getting work done on-time (preferably early) means I have time to get the feedback I need to make the revisions I want so that my “first” draft isn’t a steaming pile of prose. So keep writing. Don’t worry about making things perfect—just get the concept out there. You’ll have time to reshape or polish the work, and hitting your deadline will impress the editor.

I'm gonna make that editor's deadline. Editors love deadlines.

Editors love deadlines.

Numquam cerrises!

December is here, which means NaNoWriMo ended yesterday. Thousands of people reached the goal of 50,000 words in 30 days. That’s a remarkable feat but it’s intended to help establish regular, daily writing patterns in one’s life. Fifty thousand words is a good start to a novel–but it’s only a start.

“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.” -Richard Bach

Whether this is your first novel or not, whether you hit the NaNoWriMo deadline or not, I’d encourage everyone to keep going. Don’t stop. By all means, enjoy that celebratory drink! Take a break if you must (I did!), but keep working on your novel. Don’t let it languish. Finish it, review and revise it (Again, I heartily recommend The 10% Solution by Ken Rand), and send it out to others for feedback, then revise it again. If you “won” NaNoWriMo, Createspace is giving away five copies of your book, which can make getting quality feedback easier. Use them!

Hell, if nothing else, they make good gifts.

Books aren’t like brownies. You don’t throw it all in the pan and pull it out when the buzzer goes off. They’re more akin to sculpture. Reshaping, chipping away to smooth out the rough spots, and endless polishing is what separates a first draft from a publishable story.

Take those extra steps, go that extra mile–even if it hurts. You’ve already seen that you can get those words out. Now see if you can finish your story. I promise, there’s absolutely no downside to this.

Numquam cerrises!

Victory is Mine!

I apologize for being so far behind in my blogging. A combination of writing content at work and revising content at home used up both of my brain cells and I found myself unable to do little more than drool on my iPad when I got home.

I’m better now. Mostly.

Bev Gelfand, my intrepid editor, and all-around awesome lady, worked with me to revise my (what I thought was final) manuscript for Antigone’s Fall. Honestly, I thought I’d done a pretty good job of self-editing, but she not only found mistakes I’d overlooked, she identified patterns that I didn’t even realize I had.

Let me say it again for the cheap seats: All writers need editors!

But that was only part of the struggle. Now that the fun writing part was over, it was time to get down to the ugly side of indie publishing–formatting your manuscript. As it turns out, there is no one right suite for writing, no one right format for conversion, etc. They’ll all be screwed up–just in different ways. I wrote this book entirely in OpenOffice, mostly because I don’t like paying hundreds of dollars for something less useful than Word for Windows 2.0 (I’m convinced MS Word peaked with v. 5.1 on the Macintosh). Like all suites, however, OpenOffice did things differently and when I converted the base file to HTML, all sorts of crap crept in–but it wasn’t the same as Office’s crap, so it took longer to run down.

I haven’t decided what lessons I’ve learned yet, but they’re coming.

The biggest problem was getting the indentation to look good on a variety of devices. What looked fine on Kindle looked like a pile of literary poop on the iPad (or vice-versa) and I wanted them to look good universally. My dearest, most innocent hope is that now that the HTML file is ready to upload for Kindle, the Nook and other versions won’t take much effort at all. There are two final obstacles to overcome and I need to talk with some colleagues about that, but the end is nigh! So, apparently, is the beginning!

Please don’t shatter my purple bubble of hope if this is, in fact, not the case. Let me enjoy my moment.

However, I am pleased to report that I had a shot of Kraken tonight. Naturally, that means I fixed the alignment issues. And I didn’t break something else–something which occurs with alarming regularity. There’s a reason I didn’t become a programmer… It boggles my mind to go through MULTIPLE books about formatting for Kindle and none of them had the answer that worked. Oddly enough, a stupid PDF from Amazon (Industry Leaders in Obtusisity! ((also a real word!))) contained the magic little string.

I’m relieved because I didn’t want to just push the book out and “settle” for something less than the best I could do. At the same time, it was starting to look grim and the naughty angel kept whispering, “Dude, nobody’s going to care about your indents!” Very tempting, but perseverance and perfectionism carried the day.

With luck, Mountain Dew will carry the night!

Write? Wrong.

I’ve experienced several revelations about writing this week. None were of the “Go to mountain, bring back tablets” kind, but both showed me things I’d not expected.

As I’ve said in the past, writers need editors. The end. Writers are too close to their own work. A very nice woman named Bev is copy-editing Antigone’s Fall. Naturally, this event caused my blood pressure to spike (Gah! Someone I don’t know is looking at my story!), but the feedback is invaluable. She pointed out some weak areas, identified some of my repetitive mistakes, and gave me hope for my future as a storyteller.

I’m lucky to have her eyes on my words,

Similarly, at work, we tried having our writers review our projects before we shipped them off to our awesome editors. This particular unit is a trio of writers and I discovered something fascinating: If i critiqued Writer B, Writer C usually identified the same issue. Of course, it was much less fascinating when they both independently found the same pootastic bits in MY work, but it was educational!

I can’t explain why three very differently-minded writers picked up on these things, but if I’d needed convincing on the whole “editor make me look good” concept, I don’t now.

In the end, your writing belongs to you, but while we may naturally get defensive about our precious snowflakes–er, words–we should put our egos in check and listen first. Critiques are about the work, not the person. We get better by suffering the red ink and comment fields of outrageous criticism.

Hopefully.

It’s always something.

I admit it. I’m scared. Antigone’s Fall is all but done. If I could figure out what’s causing some alignment havoc in the epub and mobi files, I’d have it available for order this bloody minute. Sadly, that’s not what’s what.

On the other hand, I came in contact with a woman who’s interested in copy editing. We’re going to chat, but I’d certainly love to have a copy editor splash red ink along the MS and make me sound smarter. If I’d just pushed the file out, that opportunity would have been missed.

The technical problems really only annoy me because I consider myself to be very technically proficient. Eight years in IT does that to you. When you hit one of these stupid little things that you KNOW is just a little hitch, a tiny twiggle of code, yet you can’t find it…drives you mad.

Perhaps, in my case, madder.

Doesn’t matter (See what I did there?). Even as I scour the ones and zeroes of outrageous fortune, I’m working on book two and book three is kinda percolating. Then, of course, a NEW idea hits my brain for a different book entirely, but that’s going to take a lot more research than I have time for just yet.

It’s been said that older people who have work to do, who have a purpose in their life, tend to live longer. I can only conclude that I’ll be immortal because I have a lot of stories to tell.

Or I’ll die in a ball of fiery metal. One or the other.